Quoted By:
Just one, you reply as you down the rest of the contents of your teacup with determination on your face, and it’s a doozy!
“I ain’t gonna teach you about the Ziiks and the Poddals, kid.” Groans Volgir as Volka nearly drops the tray of empty cups at the expression with a bashful expression!
You don’t need to know about the Zooks and… whatever the hell he just said, you counter, you wanted to ask him about where all this <span class="mu-s">DARKNESS</span> came from! Surely he has some kind of idea behind it all!
“You’re right, pup, that <span class="mu-i">is</span> a doozy…” Nods the Durher as he once again sinks into his chair, the fire still crackling as he gets comfy. “And don’t call me Shirley.”
Clearing his tea-soaked throat, the old man contemplates the best place to start for a moment before just gunning it: “Well I don’t have to tell ya’ that it wasn’t always like this… I wasn’t around for the change, mind, nor was my father or my father’s father, but my <span class="mu-i">GREAT</span> grandfather, well… he was. Also happened to be an egghead just like me.”
Is that where he got the books Volka mentioned, you ask as you lean forward with interest glowing in your eyes! The sorcerer nods.
“Wasn’t the whole collection, mind–when the world went dark everything and everyone went insane, or so my granddad told me. Skog tribes folding in on eachother, the Mox-Durher Alliance crumbling like old cheese, Molegs and more emerging from the underground… it’s a wonder <span class="mu-i">ANY</span> of the books survived…”
As the old Durher sends a forlorn glance towards the area behind Tzah-Tzie’s couch, you hear the shop creak under a strong gale. This place must be pretty old, then, huh?
“Hah! Older than me, which is saying something.” Scoffs Volgir as he raps his cane against the solid floor! “But where was I… right, the library. With the whole world going dark the books weren’t much use anymore, but my great grandfather got it in his head to memorize as much as he could so he could pass it down to his son.” He shakes his head as the image runs through his mind. “Must have been goddamn torture, but it worked–my grandfather passed the knowledge down to my father, and-”
And he passed it down to him, right?
“Nope, my father was a bona fide sonnovabitch. Hell’s too good for him.” Snarls the Durher with another smack of his cane! “Nearly popped his head like a wart when he got drunk and tried to burn it all. He never was good with magic…”
While Volgir enters a sudden coughing fit, something about the phrase ‘nearly popped his head like a wart’ makes you uneasy… and motivates you to be very, <span class="mu-i">very</span> careful when dealing with Volka in the future…
>CONTD.
